~*1963*~

He had so often crossed this river now but he got still nervous every time he was about to set foot on the other bank. Six years ago, in Rome, he had thought he'd die of embarrassment Never could he have hoped for the answer he got back then but he also had feared this answer not knowing what might or might not follow.

"And if you were able to tell me – if it was me – the answer would be Je t'aime aussi, Louis."

For the hundredth time – or so it seemed – Francis rearranged the decorations on the conference table. He wanted everything to be perfect for Louis's visit. Lately it had started to become a habit for them to pay each other visits on regular basis besides the meetings they had because of the ECSC. But nothing more than a few kisses on the cheeks and lips had happened between them, much to Francis's growing frustration. He wanted to be calm and patient with the younger one, but oh sweet pain of waiting~ This sweet pain was getting him really annoyed at times.

The visit today though was something special. Today, Louis's boss would accompany his dear and both their bosses would sign a treaty to make their "friendship" official. How much did Francis want that. He wanted everyone to know that sweet little Louis was his and his alone. No more approaches from Alfred, no more Brit trying to get his share and best part of it: not even Feliciano could then do a thing to get Louis back again for himself without risking a war.

He was in a really good mood because of that, humming to himself and looking at the clock every other minute. Soon, so soon would his love arrive. He had never been really consistent in who he loved, flirting with one, sharing the bed with another, but this time, this time for the first time in his long life, he wanted to do everything right, to posses the other entirely. For the first time since Francia he wanted to be one with another not to rule but to share. He hoped so desperately for petit Louis to one day become a country worthy to share power with.

Ah, petit Louis indeed. Having had so much trouble with him all seemed to have forgotten that he was, compared to him, Francis, or Arthur or many of the others, a mere child, if not even younger than that. Shattered to pieces after the Napoleonic Wars – or maybe he already had been into pieces before that, Francis couldn't tell – then becoming a nation in the end of the 19th century because of Gilbert of all nations. That poor child had known nothing about life, about the difference between war and peace. Thinking back to that time, Francis could tell why they had always seen each other as enemies. So many wars with each other, so much time lost. No one had been there to guide him when the child was doing his first steps towards independence and democracy. Au contraire, all the big old bullies like himself did was demanding money from the young nation and taking land away from him. That was no excuse for what the young fool did during the 1930s and 40s. Not at all.

But now, in Francis's opinion, he had suffered and expiated enough. They needed him now. Alfred needed him as a strong nation against Ivan in their silly little fight. Arthur... well, Francis was not sure why Arthur always wanted Ludwig to behave well and get along with his neighbours, but he was definitely up to something evil. And Francis himself needed him because... he loved him, right? This was his personal reason, but as a country he had to think differently of it. Seducing petit young naïve Louis was an easy way to maintain the power he lost due to his little colonies leaving. It gave him a better stand against Alfred's growing power. That was how he'd sold the idea to his bosses.

When the hour of Louis's and his boss's arrival finally came, Francis was almost nervous. He had planned this all through. He knew that it would work. He wanted to do that and wouldn't regret it afterwards. Everything was settled. A romantic dinner at his house which he, of course, would cook himself, then some of his best wine, in candle-light and with roses on the table was his plan for the evening but his plan didn't end there. Okay, it did, but that was no hindrance. He would cross that bridge when he came to it.

Petit Louis looked so adorable in his dark blue suit, everything on him neat and tidy from head to toe just as expected. Francis couldn't take his sight off him for a mere second. The moment Louis saw Francis the usual frown on his face became a smile, only for a second, but long enough for Francis to see and his heart to skip a beat. Oh, Louis was soo cute; and his and his alone. He had just to make sure of that today.

It was more of a torture than at other times to have to attend their bosses meeting, too. All the time, Francis could only look at Louis but was too far away on the other side of the table to touch him, to hold his hand. Not more than two short kisses on the cheeks as a greeting had been allowed because petit innocent Louis was afraid of what his boss might say.

It was pleasant to see his boss and Louis boss assuring each other officially of their friendship. But the treaty had already been made. Francis wondered why it had to take this long to simply sign it. They spent all the afternoon taking and answering to the questions of journalists after the treaty had been signed before Francis and Ludwig were finally allowed to leave.

Francis had already suspected that this day might go on and on like that for all eternity to punish him for his sins. But now, on their way home to his place, he was quite happy. Hesitantly after they already had passed half the streets they had to walk down, Louis touched his hand. Oh, why on earth had this boy to be so buttoned up? He looked just like a child as if he was afraid that he was about to do something forbidden. Casually, Francis took the younger one's hand and softly squeezed it. He wanted to show his love that it was alright, that he didn't have to fear anything when he was by his side. "It's okay, mon chéri", he smiled at Louis. The younger one blushed which looked so cute in Francis's opinion.

Before long they had reached Francis's small flat. "Make yourself comfortable, mon cheri", he said as they entered the hall. "You know where everything is and I'll be right back with our dinner, so just sit down and wait for me." And with a kiss on Louis's cheek, he was off into the kitchen.

Thank god had he already prepared the dinner in the morning. So all he had to do now was to heat it up and prepare the matching wine. It took less than twenty minutes but to Francis it seemed to take much longer. So much time in which he wasn't able to be with his adorable little Louis. Said German was already sitting at the table, waiting for his dinner – and even more for his friend. All he did was staring into the candle flame. For a short moment, Francis was worried about him. But when Louis saw him, that short impression was replaced of an expression of pure joy – one scarier than the other but both so unusual. With a slight sight, Francis put the dishes with the food on their places before he sat himself down opposite to his dear.

They started to eat in silence but Francis could tell from the look on Louis's face that he liked the taste of it. Of course he liked it, it was real French food, the best in the world and one day, Francis was sure of this, it would be so important to be even announced a part of the world's cultural heritage. And he had put so much effort into it to match Louis's taste. Francis was quiet pleased with himself for succeeding in this task.

But there was one thing which made him worry: "So, mon ami, why is it that you always pull such an unhappy face when I'm not around? Do you miss me that much?" He chuckled. He was not serious about this but still hoped that he'd guessed right.

"I'm worried.", Louis muttered.

"About what?", he wondered. He could not think of one single reason to be worried. Wasn't everything perfect right now? "You know, I'll always be there for you."

"Yes, I know", the younger one replied. "I'm not worried because of you but because of my brother. I had no word from him in years and my boss forbids me to contact him. Without you, Francis, I'd be worried sick. You are my sunshine, Francis."

Those words were so sweet, but all Francis could think about was that his dear petit Louis was thinking more about another man than him. "So?", he asked, trying to fight his jealousy. "But, trust me, I have promised to help you getting dear Gilbert back and I plan to keep it. Mon chérie, for you I would do anything."

"Thank you, Francis" The younger one gave him a hesitant smile and then fell silence.

Looking at him for a while, Francis learned how to look behind Louis's bright façade. The smile on his lips wasn't able to reach the eyes. Sometimes, his hands shook slightly. And always, each and every time when he thought Francis didn't look at him, the usual frown replaced the false smile. It was such a shame that this boy had always to worry about anyone. From Francis's point of view he cared way too much about his brother. It wasn't his fault that Gilbert was now living with Ivan – well technically it was – and if anyone had asked Francis, Gilbert was better off that way. But no one cared to ask him. If it had been up to him, they had handed over that silly Italian, too. As long as he could keep his dear little Germany to himself, everything was fine for him. It made him so mad when he had to hear his sweet darling worrying about his brother – or flinching when hearing Feliciano's name.

"I'm sorry, Francis", he suddenly heard Louis mutter.

"Don't be, chérie.", the elder beamed. "I want to hear about everything that makes or sad, or happy. Don't be shy, just tell all that's on your heart to me." With this words, he took Louis's hand. He always wondered why the younger one's skin felt so soft despite the strong muscles underneath.

"Thank you", Louis smiled.

Francis smiled back at him. "Don't thank me all the time, silly. I told you, I love you." He drank of his wine and winked at Louis. "Want to move this to the living room?" The nod he received for that was all he needed to get up and lead the younger one by the hand to the couch. They sat side by side and smiled at each other for a while, before Louis snuggled up to Francis. He was a bit surprised about that but put his arms around the other's shoulders and hugged him close. He was happy to be so close to the one he desired but what he had been told earlier still preyed on his mind.

"Mon petit Louis, do you love me back?", he eventually said in a teasing manner but with a smile. He wasn't angry with him after all.

"Yes, I do love you back", was the answer.

"More than Alfred?", he went on.

"Ew, what made you even consider that?", Louis answered, but then quietly yawned. "He's alright and always nice and a great help to me, but he'll never be closer to me than a friend. Besides, he's definitely not my type. No match for you. You are the only one I love that much."

"Bien", praised Francis the younger male and rewarded him with a kiss on the lips for that. "What about Gilbert? Do you love him?"

Louis moved in his arm so they could look at each other again. "Why are you asking this all of a sudden? Yes, I love him, of course I do. He's my brother, he raised me. How could I not love him?" Seeing the disappointed look on Francis face he went on: "But he'll never be more than a brother to me. My love to him, to my family, cannot be compared to how I feel for you. I love you much, much more than I'll ever love my brother."

"Okay then, one last question." He gave his love a kiss on the lips again, holding him close for a moment, breathing in his scent. Oh, how much he longed for truly holding his chérie. "Do you still hold feelings for Feliciano. Don't deny that there were, I saw you propose to him two decades back."

Almost at the instant as Francis had said that name, Louis flinched and looked down as in agony. It took him a few moments to recover, before he cuddled closer to Francis. Was his mind playing tricks on him or was the poor boy sobbing?

"I did", Louis finally managed to utter. Sadness was filling his voice and almost silenced it. "I really loved him, loved him so much. And then he betrayed me." With a soft whimper, he hugged Francis so close that it almost hurt. "Please, I don't want to talk about him." He looked so hurt since the name had been mentioned, that the elder one would have done anything just to cheer him up the slightest bit. He felt so terribly sorry for the boy, when he pulled him up and kissed him to comfort him, kissed him for the first time like an adult and not like a child. He was so furious that one had dared to hurt his beloved so much and all he could do was to hold his dear close. "I would never be able to pretend that never happened", Louis went on until his voice broke again. He cleared his throat, before he finally muttered: "You're the only one in my life, my only love, Francis. I love you." He pressed himself almost pleadingly against the Frenchman.

For a long time, Francis caressed his beloved. He felt so sorry for what the Italian had done and at the same time he wanted to be as close as possible to his dear. And yet he did not dare to make a step forwards in that direction even though he longed so much for this. Not before his Louis had calmed down a bit.

When he finally had, Francis started to stroke down his back, like you do it with friends when you want to cheer them up at first, then slowly let his hand wander further down towards Louis's lower back. There was no reaction at first. Not until he started massaging the younger one's buttocks, said German suddenly stiffened but did not complain. Francis took this as an invitation for him to go even further. The pushed up the shirt, petting the younger one's back. A low moan escaped the German's lips. He shivered a bit. Trying to look into the elder one's eyes, he rubbed his back against the hand which was caressing him. But the look which met Francis's eye was not full of lust, but of confusion. Dieu, was that boy really that buttoned up?

"Je t'aime", Francis whispered into Louis's ear, trying to comfort him.

Said one blushed, looking away from the Frenchman. "What are you doing?", he mumbled.

"L'amour", was the answer he got. But for this answer, he pushed himself away from his friend, muttering something like: "Sorry, I'm not ready yet." He looked dreadfully embarrassed and sorry at the same time. "Please, Francis, would you mind just to hold me for the rest of the night?"

Who could he resist that pleading look? Francis was no predator who would ignore his partner's wishes. No matter how much he longed for it, he had to stay patient, stay calm until his beloved would finally allow it.

So the night became day again, while the two of them lay in each others arms, hugging close.

A/N: So, that's the second chapter. Please don't kill me for how it ended. It's just that the guideline says, that Ludwig and Francis won't talk for about 10 years afterwards. And since this is a story about the relationship between the two of them, I had to find a reason. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for so many things that I can't put it all in here.